I Love The Internet

I love the internet. It totally rules. Here we connect. We share. We challenge. We learn. And sometimes it’s hard. Sometimes we need to disconnect. Sometimes feelings are hurt. We take space, then come back. And it’s still here. Just waiting. I love that. Not that I take the space, because I love the internet way too much to take a break.

Here are a few of my favorite recent posts that I’ve found online. Enjoy!

I turned to him, “Really?” It hadn’t occurred to me that it would be that, but the look on his face, the way his jaw was set and he looked straight ahead. I leaned back. It might not have been a revelation to hear that his mom was gay, but for her to finally acknowledge it, that was something.

She spent the summer passing as a boy at the community pool because, though she identifies as a girl, she’d rather pass than deal with strangers’ assumptions about her and the awkwardness when those assumptions are challenged.

As someone who still gets the occasional double-take in women’s restrooms, I get it but I hate the family locker room because it’s not as clean and there is always wet hair on the tile floor.

My daughter and I got on the bus, our first day of catching it together. Our first day of her getting off and transferring to another to go to school, me staying on to get on the subway, me staying on to watch her walk to a bus stop that leaves a lot to be desired as far as safety. Please pay attention to your surroundings. Please.

The mother of the two children across from us was yelling at her son, grabbing his face, telling him to look at her. “Shut up before I give you something to cry about on this bus.” It’s one of the lines used in parenting that I despise. If your kid is crying, he already has something to cry about.

I had always felt alone where I was supposed to feel the most not alone. The truth is that I felt less alone in a bar with my friends than I did with Christians and though I remained a Christian always, I believed myself worse than all the rest. Like God made all the people in His image and then He just had a bad day and made me in the image of a Russian nesting doll. Whoops! Babushka!